


Albert Mason, Bounty Hunter

by captorvatiing



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Awkward Crush, Bounty Hunters, Hijinks & Shenanigans, M/M, Misunderstandings, Possibly Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-07
Updated: 2020-10-07
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:48:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26878453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/captorvatiing/pseuds/captorvatiing
Summary: Albert Mason scowled at the bounty board outside the station as if he could look hard enough to disintegrate the paper in front of him.Albert makes a rash decision in the hopes of saving a friend. It turns out pretty okay, actually.
Relationships: Albert Mason/Arthur Morgan
Comments: 7
Kudos: 78





	Albert Mason, Bounty Hunter

Albert Mason scowled at the bounty board outside the station as if he could look hard enough to disintegrate the paper in front of him. He’d known, of course, that the handsome cowboy who’d saved his life a few weeks ago was more than he’d let on, he wasn’t an idiot. For christ sake, the man’s saddle was more gun than seat! And the gainfully employed didn’t spend their days galloping through the wilderness, rescuing damsels in distress from their certain, self inflicted doom. He hadn’t looked him up, though. He liked to think he wasn’t that desperate, or maybe that was just the excuse he’d given himself so he could fantasize about a man of disrepute in blissful, willful ignorance. It was harder to fantasize about a man who was accused of a massacre.

...Well. No it wasn’t, but it set a rather different tone. 

_Five thousand dollars_. Quite the sum. Perhaps Albert had misjudged him, perhaps Mr Morgan was a ruthless monster after all and Albert would be better off with the predators he knew.

_"Usually I'm worse than the wolves."_

Albert shivered despite the late afternoon heat. He still found that hard to believe. Wishful thinking aside, he'd heard Arthur calling after that coyote. It was impossible to imagine a man who would call a wild canid _mister_ as anything close to ruthless, especially after watching him sprint down the side of a hill for a man he'd only just met to save the poor fool nothing but a few hundred dollars and a heap of embarrassment. He hadn't even asked for payment, let alone tried to rob him. Considering Albert had just been robbed by a dog he assumed he would have been an easy target. No, Arthur Morgan had presented himself as a kind and generous spirit, and what reason would he have had to lie?

As Albert dithered in front of the really quite striking portrait of Mr. Morgan on the board a woman with a rough demeanor and a filthy pair of pants all but elbowed him out of the way without so much as an ‘ _excuse you_ ’. She shot Albert a truly withering glare, tore the poster down and strode back to her horse. Everything about her screamed violence almost as loudly as Morgan himself and with a sickening lurch Albert realised she was going to kill Mr Morgan. She was going to kill his friend. His heart leapt to his throat and before he could stop himself he was stepping into her path. 

“Miss! Excuse me,” He said, swallowing around the embarrassing crack in his throat. “Pardon me. I was looking at that.” 

She seemed irritated, heavy on the reins as she tried to steer round him and found herself cornered. “And now you’re not.” She said brusquely, her voice grating. “Get outta the way.” 

He really should. “No!” He said, raising his chin with confidence he didn’t feel. “I really must insist you hand it over.” The look she gave him was the sort that made men believe in witches who withered the crops. It wasn’t a threat of violence so much as a casual disregard for his very being and feeling a fool before the words even made it out of his mouth he added, “Please?” 

It wasn’t a surprise when she laughed at him but it stung nonetheless. “Are you a bounty hunter sir?” 

“Yyyyes?” 

Albert Mason was a city boy from the top of his pristine straw boater to the bottoms of his not quite brand new boots and he knew it. There was nothing about him, nothing at all, that suggested he could handle a hard day's ride let alone hunting a wanted murderer who was almost twice his width, and yet the rough woman looked him over said, “How about we split it?” 

Why he agreed was anyone’s guess. Why she _offered_ was anyone’s guess! Albert certainly couldn't fathom it. Somehow, though, Albert found himself riding alongside her on the dirt track out of Valentine and up into the mountains. He didn’t ask how she knew Mr Morgan would be up that way and she didn’t offer any context. She didn’t offer up anything at all, actually. It was quickly established that she wasn’t one for small talk and the silence stretched between them, giving Albert plenty of time to think about what an idiot he was. Somewhere out in the Heartlands beautiful herds of wild horses ran beneath the bright blue sky waiting to be photographed and where was their doting documentist? Heading miles in the wrong direction into uncharted territory in the company of what he hoped was the stupidest bounty hunter in the state but more likely was some kind of trap waiting to be sprung. What if she knew about his brief association with Mr Morgan - the connection no doubt cemented in her mind by his foolish theatrics at the train station - and intended to use it to capture him somehow? Not that it was likely to work. Albert might have been preoccupied with the thought of his knight in shining armour but there was no hope that he’d been more than a passing thought in Arthur Morgan’s mind. The man was the very essence of American masculinity made beautiful flesh, there was no hope he shared Albert’s proclivities. No, any trap this young woman wanted to set would fail, and then Albert would have to explain to her what a sad, desperate idiot he was, at which point she would certainly leave him out here to be eaten by bears. 

He could just turn his horse around now, head back without a word and hope she didn’t follow, but what if he read later that Mr Morgan had been captured or worse? No, no. That wouldn’t do at all. The man had saved his life, it was only fair that Albert returned the favour now he’d been handed the chance. The trouble was working out how.

“Hey!” The woman shouted, and Albert looked up just in time to take a branch to the face. She was not gracious enough to hide her laughter. “We’re stopping up here.”

“Right.” Albert said, mostly to himself as he watched her horse’s arse disappear between the pines. “Excellent plan. I was just about to come up with it myself."

They set up on a ridge that overlooked a well travelled trail. It was quite a pretty spot - the trees grew teetering over the rock face, shading the narrow valley below and allowing the sun to dapple the sparse bushes and long grass at the top of the verge. Albert would have itched to photograph the squirrels that scattered at their approach if only they were there under completely different circumstances. Morgan was strong and capable, it followed that the easiest way to capture him would be to do so before he saw it coming. All they had to do was wait for him to pass, and then no doubt the shooting would start. Once they were settled Albert cleared his throat and took another jab at getting his new business partner to talk. 

"So," He said, "How long have you been… In the business, so to speak?"

The woman raised an eyebrow at him, "A month or so. Not long. You?"

"Erm. This, this would be my first bounty, actually."

"Arthur Morgan?" She said, a laugh in her voice, "Your first? You do know who he is, don't you?"

Albert puffed up like a dissatisfied hen. "Yes! Yes I do, thank you. And I'll have you know reports of his, his tendency for extreme violence are greatly exaggerated. He can be quite the gentleman." 

The woman leant forwards curiously where she was sitting against a tree, her legs stretched out in front of her and her rifle laid casually across her lap. "Sounds like you know him personally."

Albert's mouth clicked shut. The best lie, he thought, was always one based in the truth. "I've encountered him in my travels," He admitted, "but I wouldn't say we know one another personally. I doubt he'll recognise me."

"He won't get close enough," Said the woman, patting her rifle. Her eyes were heavy on Albert, searching for something. He simply shook his head.

"I suppose not."

They fell back into uncomfortable silence. Soon they had been waiting so long that the wildlife returned around them. Usually it was easy for Albert to lose himself in the quiet hubbub of nature to the detriment of all else but now, as he crouched staring down at the dirt road that Arthur might soon appear on, every broken twig felt like a warning siren. Even the bird calls were little more than a distraction. When finally he heard the soft sound of hooves he stood abruptly, clutching the woefully inadequate pistol he'd purchased after the wolves debacle and gesturing out into the woods. "I er." He said, "I'll be right back." 

The woman didn't seem to care, thank god. Albert scrambled down the hill to the path, following the direction of the sound away from the trap ahead. As he got closer, crouching in the brush like the world's least threatening cougar, he could make out a rider with Arthur's broad shoulders and as he got closer still, he heard… Was that...? Arthur was singing as he rode, humming to himself where he didn’t know the words. Albert's heart did something embarrassing at the sound but there was no time to think about it before he was barrelling out onto the road like a man possessed startling Arthur’s horse as he nearly smacked into her neck.

"You alright there Mr-"

"Arthur! Turn around, quickly let's go!"

Arthur didn't hesitate, offering Albert an arm to pull him up onto the back of his horse as he turned her around and into a trot with a gentle click of his tongue, his eyes sharp as he scanned the forest around them. "Mason?" Arthur said voice tight with nerves. "What's after you? What are you doing all the way out here?"

"A bounty hunter!" 

Arthur's horse skidded to a stop as he turned in his saddle, tense, his expression unreadable. "A what."

"Keep riding!" Albert insisted, nudging at Arthur's back as if he could shoo him into turning round, "She hasn't shot us yet and I'd like to keep it that way!"

Arthur spurred on his horse, turning back to the road as Albert searched for a good place to put his hands. My god, Arthur was close. "Explain better, Mason!" 

There was a growl of warning in his voice and Albert baulked. "Oh dear. Okay. I'll explain. You see I rode with a young woman this morning and, well, Mr Morgan I've been more of a fool today than you've seen me be so far and I think that's saying something. First of all let me preface this by saying I would never have turned you in even if I was capable, and that… isn't reassuring you but it's there." He said, patting Arthur's arm and pulling his hand back just as fast when Arthur looked at him like he might bite it off. "...Sorry. I came across a woman picking up your bounty sheet this morning and when I realised she was going to kill you well, I don't know what came over me but I simply couldn't let it happen."

He recounted the events of the day as best he could, his grip on the back of the saddle turning white knuckled despite the horse's leisurely pace. Although he was close enough that he was almost hugging the other man, Albert found he couldn't read Arthur's reaction at all. 

"...And, I suppose I just wanted to warn you." He finished lamely. "If you could just pull over, I'll go." 

Arthur didn't pull over, guiding the horse in silence for what felt like an eternity before he said, "A woman?"

"Good grief Arthur, does the sex of your adversary really matter? Yes a woman."

"What'd she look like?"

Albert was briefly taken aback by the question. "She was blonde, maybe thirty or so, wore men's trousers and a yellow shirt. Why?"

Arthur's laughter didn't really feel like an answer but apparently it was all he was getting. He was quiet for a little while longer, Albert supposed he was puzzling out the story. Eventually he asked, "How long have you known?"

"About you?” Albert said, almost amused. “I'm a fool Mr Morgan but I'm not blind. You don't exactly carry yourself like a banker." 

Arthur grunted, satisfied with that answer or at least not wanting to push it further. "I'll drop you back in Valentine, Mr Mason," He said gruffly, "and fetch your horse."

"Mr Morgan, no!" Albert said, clutching the sleeve of Arthur's shirt as panic overtook him once again. "The woman! It's too dangerous, you mustn't."

"Your camera still on your saddle?"

"Well, yes, but-" He hadn’t considered that actually. His camera was his livelihood as well as his passion and though he wasn’t struggling he didn’t have nearly enough money for an entirely new set of equipment. Without it he’d be shipping back to Boston within the next few days with nothing to show for his trip but an embarrassing story and a crush on a wanted man. It would ruin him. But still, not so badly as a bounty hunter might ruin Arthur. 

Even with his face dipped out of sight Albert could hear the smile in Arthur's voice. "Don't you worry about me, Mr Mason. I'll get your horse an’ your things." 

That was apparently all he had to say. The ride back to Valentine was as quiet as the ride up, but this time the silence was companionable. It would have been comfortable, if Albert hadn’t been so acutely aware of his companion and the scant distance between them. Arthur's jacket smelt like warm leather and wood smoke and from here Albert could see all the nicks and tears patched over years of use, the seams dark with worn in grime. Above the collar, Arthur's hair was getting just long enough to curl out away from his neck, dark blonde flyaways catching the light where they were sticking out behind his ears, sat wrong under his hat. Albert longed to lean forwards until they were pressed chest to back and brush his lips against the soft spot of bare skin there. He imagined Arthur would lean into the touch. He imagined he would turn in his saddle and say something sure and charming with that rumbling baritone of his, reaching out first to close the gap between them. Albert's hat would fall back as he clung to Arthur's waist, his mouth would fall open and-

"Mr Mason?" 

Albert jerked out of his daydream, his cheeks hot. "Hello! Yes, that's me."

Arthur was polite enough not to laugh at him out loud but he still tipped his head with a wry smirk as he said, "You with us?"

Albert cleared his throat. "Yes, sorry. The stresses of the day…"

"Mmhm." Arthur turned back to the road, that smile still playing on his lips. At the bottom of the hill the town stretched out ahead of them, loud with the bustle of normal working people going about their normal working days. "You stayin' in the hotel?"

"Right again, Mr Morgan. But uhm, please, don't feel the need to bother yourself any further I can walk from here."

Arthur just grunted in response, leading his horse down the main causeway to the front of the hotel. He hopped down after Albert and followed him right up to the door where Albert turned and held out a hand, catching Arthur's in both of his as he shook it. "Thank you again, Mr Morgan, it seems I'm destined to be forever in your debt."

"Thought it was you saving my sorry ass this time round?" Arthur teased. "Are you free tomorrow?" Albert startled, frozen as his mind ran away with the idea of seeing Arthur again until Arthur, noticing his hesitation, said, "For the horse?"

"Oh." Once again Albert was left feeling ridiculous. He plastered on a warm smile and tried not to look like a deflating balloon. "Of course! I'll be right here, probably making a fine fool of myself somehow as per usual."

"Tomorrow then." Arthur said, clapping Albert on the arm and going to remount his horse. "You try not to get yourself in any more trouble before then, Mr Mason. Watch out for the girls here, I hear they can be real vicious."

"Aha, yes, well that won't be a problem. Thank you again, Mr Morgan!"

"Arthur!"

"Arthur! Sorry! Goodbye!"

Albert watched Arthur laughing as he rode away, staying until long after the dust from his horse had settled. As he let himself in and headed up to his room he couldn't help being more sure than ever that he hadn't misjudged his disreputable friend. However foolish an assertion that may turn out to be, for now he was content in his assessment of Arthur Morgan as a good man, and so help him tomorrow he was going to ask him out for a drink. 

**Author's Note:**

> hello! i haven't written fanfic since homestuck! my god, it's a miracle i can still type. i have a potential follow up chapter or two for this, we'll see we'll see.
> 
> bounties dont even go up in valentine station and i did not bother looking at the map or finding an in game location for this shhh its fine its fine :)


End file.
